Blows to the Future
by Scented-Marker-Sniffer
Summary: He had to keep faith; it was the only thing he had left. And in the end, it would be the only thing he'd need.


**I don't know if I like this story all that much, but it's been bothering me so I decided to publish it. Hopefully you don't think it sucks as much as I do.**

**Reviews aren't required but they are appreciated. Thanks for visiting and I really hope you enjoy...**

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The wind was blowing.

Currently, a child in green sat quietly in his boat, assessing his friend and mode of transportation for any damage wrought by a storm that had ceased only several minutes earlier. The storm had been fierce; it spoke of intense, unbridled rage. It had turned the once-calm waters surrounding the Triangle Islands into a series of unbelievably tall waves and the blue sky into a oily black curtain; the sailors in Windfall Café would never believe him if he told them. Rain had fallen in thick, heavy sheets, pelting the boy and his precious boat; the waves nearly capsized them more than once. Strangest of all, the storm had come nearly out of nowhere, and had lasted all night. However, as soon as the sun rose, it was... gone. That was certainly no act of nature. He didn't have a very clear idea as to what could have caused such a storm, but he just knew it had something to do with the man in black.

With a small, relieved smile, the golden-haired child found no injuries to his friend, and collapsed onto the small deck, the exhaustion finally coming back to take its revenge on him. The King of Red Lions turned to look at him in concern, but he only smiled reassuringly. The smile was completely plastic, but his friend accepted it, if only to spare him.

To tell the truth, The Hero of Winds, hailed to be the bravest in all the land, was scared.

He was so far away from home. He missed his grandmother, missed Orca, missed all his friends and neighbors and the way he always felt safe there. But he couldn't return—not without Aryll. They'd smile and welcome him, his grandmother would invite him in with a hug and kiss, but he knew she'd gasp when she saw he's returned, but would sit back down with a sigh when she realized he was alone, and he simply couldn't stand to disappoint her anymore.

He was so scared for his sister, for his Aryll. Was she all right with those pirates? Were they treating her well? Was she eating and sleeping? Were her seagulls with her? Was she crying? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?

And what of Tetra? What of Zelda? She was all alone... He prayed the man in black hadn't found her, prayed she was all right, prayed for her safety.

The Hero of Wind was only a child, but he had the weight of an entire world on his shoulders. He worried all the time, constantly, no matter what. He had nightmares every night, fought horrifying monsters every day, never resting, _refusing _to rest. He didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't think—just let his body take over until he couldn't worry about himself, could only fight and worry for his loved ones.

Tired. He was so tired...

There was a pause, as the child stared dully at the gray water. Then:

"Link."

The child in question lightly tapped the deck of the boat to let him know he was listening.

"It seems the storm carried us north; we're south of Windfall Island. We can make a stop there and rest."

"..."

Sensing his charge's hesitation, the wise boat continued, in a softer tone, "Link... do not fret. In the end, everything will be as it should. As it is, all you need is an open heart and mind, and hope. You need hope that everything will be fine in the end."

For a long time, the Hero was silent. Then, in a voice as soft and yielding as the quiet breeze, he murmured, "... Yeah."

He got to his feet and prepared the sail, smiling a bit. The King of Red Lions was right. In the end... it would be okay. Until then, he would still worry, he would still fight... but he would have faith.

When he was sure everything was in order, he withdrew his Wind Waker.

The Hero of Wind conducted the simple melody, and watched as the breeze ruffled his hair and clothing. His sail opened.

This wind was not angry, was not sad. It smelled of hope. And really, that was all he needed.

The Hero smiled as his boat started forward.

The wind blows to the future.


End file.
